Blood Brothers
by Mokibobolink
Summary: Set near the end of S6: Castiel arrives at Dean's call & collapses without explanation. Soon it's clear that Raphael has tried to kill Cass and now Dean, Sam & Bobby are in a race to save him. Hurt!Cas-Dean/Cas Friendship-could be preDestiel if you squint
1. Chapter 1

_Hi folks!_

_To those waiting for a new chapter for my NCIS story, The Cavalry Rides Again, I hope you will forgive my brief trip into Supernatural land. These past few months have been crazy with work and I'm finally getting some time off here and there, which has allowed the Muse to visit once again. The good news is that when She delivers a new story, it always helps with unfinished ones as well. Any writing being a good thing, I decided to roll with this one and have even started working on the next chapter of Cavalry. I will post it as soon as I can, promise!_

_As for this story, if anyone has been reading my reviews of Supernatural or my articles in my Supernatural column on the Daemon's TV website (link is on my profile page), then you know I've become more than a little enamored by Cass this season. This story is meant to take place after Frontierland and before Mommy Dearest, taking liberties with stretching time a bit, of course. Therefore it will have spoilers through the end of season 6. One of my recent articles was titled "4 Reasons Why Castiel is an Honorary Winchester" and I guess that's kinda where the idea for this story began. Hope y'all like it. More to come as soon as the Muse allows. _

oooOOOOooooOOOoooo

Chapter One

With the sound of flapping, yet invisible, wings, a figure appeared in a field surrounded by large trees. Looking around briefly, Castiel got his bearings, pinpointing the area where he'd been summoned to be somewhere near the coast of northern Oregon. It was early morning, the sun having only made its appearance a few minutes before. Not that he could actually see the sun though. Thick fog from the ocean made the sky a colorless gray, the dampness causing his breath to form puffy clouds in front of his nose and lips.

"I have a message from Raphael."

Cass turned in a flash, his blade appearing in his hand seemingly without thought and he looked to see who Raphael had sent to try and take him out. The angel's eyebrows went up slightly in surprise, a facial expression he had picked up from the Winchesters, though he never knew he did it. The one sent to dispatch him was barely an angel at all. Hardly more than a cherub class, Cass almost felt sorry for the creature. It wasn't going to take much to destroy it and he wondered briefly why Raphael had bothered to send it at all. Perhaps to annoy him, to show his baby brother how worthless he found him, by sending such an unworthy being to do his dirty work. Or perhaps it was just to annoy him in an attempt to distract him from his current plans. It wasn't an entirely ineffective idea, after all even an elephant could be distracted by enough flies.

Flipping his long blade expertly in his hand, Cass casually gathered himself into a defensive position. This "fly" wouldn't live much longer. The other angel sneered and gave a half-hearted lunge, almost as if he too, knew there wasn't much point to battling someone of Castiel's caliber. Cass paused a moment, dipping his head sideways in a way that Dean had once said reminded him of a dog listening to a strange sound.

"You can leave now, if you wish," he offered kindly. Cass saw no reason to kill a kindred creature, no matter how much lower in class it was to him.

The being seemed to strengthen its resolve at his words, probably ashamed that its hesitation had been so easily observed. It gave another lunge, this one with a purpose, and managed to pierce the flesh of Cass' left arm. The wound was nothing and Cass didn't even bother to look down at it. Blood dripped onto his hand and he ignored it. Smiling viciously, Cass' opponent felt a moment of triumph and let his confidence carry him forward into another attack.

That had been Cass' plan all along, letting the creature feel as if it had got the better of him, using its over-confidence to lure it in closer. Its third lunge would also be its final one, Cass' blade found its heart with a movement so fast that the poor thing never even saw it.

With a brief scream and a slight glow (not nearly as much as would have been from a full angel), the opponent fell to the ground. A small set of shadowy wings burned into the earth behind it. Cass sighed as he wiped his weapon on the damp grass, drying it with the tails of his ever-present coat. If annoyance was indeed his big brother's idea for this brief battle, it had worked. Cass had much more pressing issues to attend to, with no time for such nonsense.

With thoughts to head back to his followers, Cass paused briefly, hearing another summoning call in his head. Furrowing his brow, his first assumption that this was another of Raphael's people vanished when he recognized the voice.

OOOooooOOOOooo

"I still don't know why you guys always make me call him, it's not like I'm the only one who…."

"Hello Dean." Cass said quietly from behind the other man's shoulder, sending Dean into a stumbling spin that the angel might have found funny, if he'd had much of a sense of humor.

"Hey Cass," Dean said casually, trying his best to cover up the fact that he'd just jumped out of his skin like a frightened little girl. Ignoring the smirks on Sam and Bobby's faces, he sauntered over to the elder hunter's desk and picked up a sheet of paper.

"We've been seeing signs that might be pointing to Eve, care to give us the angel-eyed view?"

"Of course," Cass said, taking the sheet from Dean's hand and examining it. There was much to be done, but the angel knew it was important to be there for the Winchesters when they asked. They needed to have no reason to suspect that anything was going on with him; that he wasn't in fact doing what he was doing and planning what he was planning. If that meant jumping at their every beck and call, well there were worse things. Besides, it also let him know exactly what they were up to as well.

As the angel picked up the page they'd printed from a news website, Dean spotted the ruby lines glinting on his wrist.

"You okay?" Dean asked, nodding towards the obviously fresh blood.

Cass looked down at his hand, he had completely forgotten about the wound. Shifting his arm slightly, he took a closer look and confirmed his earlier assumption that it was nothing to worry about. Not even deep enough to cause the white glow that signaled an angel's spirit threatening to leave a vessel, it was barely more than a glorified scratch.

"I had a visit from one of Raphael's followers," Cass explained briefly, going back to the paper.

"You sure?" Sam queried with a worried frown. With everything they were going through here on earth, Sam felt guilty about how easily they could forgot Cass was having troubles of his own.

"Yeah, 'cause I think Bobby may have some My Little Pony bandaids in the first aid kit. We could fix you up, good as new."

Dean grinned teasingly at the older hunter, who shook his head, refusing to take the bait.

"I said I am fine," Cass replied a little testily. Now that they had forced him to pay attention to it, the wound had begun to burn slightly, annoyingly. Apparently Raphael's plan was working after all.

"Okay, okay, no need to bite any heads off. Let's just get back to it. What do you think, Cass?" Bobby asked from his position near the entrance to the kitchen, leaning one shoulder against the entryway.

Cass looked down at the paper again, a little confused when he realized that he couldn't read it. Something seemed to be wrong with his eyes and they refused to focus on the words and images in front of him. The letters swam around on the white paper in lazy circles, making him feel strangely dizzy.

"I….uh...," Cass began, lifting his head to look at the men standing around him. Except now they were out of focus and shifting too. What was happening here?

Sam and Dean shared a quick glance, worried by the odd expression on the angel's face.

"Boys!" Bobby's warning was all they got before the angel started going down, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. Used to heeding the elder hunter's orders without hesitation, the two were fast enough to catch Cass before he hit the floor. Dean hooked his arms under Cass' shoulders, while Sam grabbed his legs, and together they put him gently on the couch.

"Bobby, you wanna explain what the hell just happened? How did you know?" Dean asked.

"I didn't know anything, I just recognized that look on his face. It was the same one he had the last time I had to catch him."

"What's wrong with him?" Sam asked, kneeling by the couch and grabbing Cass' non-bleeding arm to take a pulse. Not that taking a pulse on an angel would tell him much, but it made him feel better to be doing something.

"First, I think I better do something. Hang on."

Sam and Dean watched as Bobby walked into the kitchen and pulled out a large knife. Slicing quickly into the meat of his left arm, he put the blade down and dipped the fingers of his right hand into the blood. Going to the refrigerator, he drew a quick rune.

In any other family the sight of the man who was very nearly your father, cutting open his arm and drawing pictures with the blood, would probably warrant a call to the authorities. In the Winchester household it was business as usual and the boys waited without comment until he was finished.

Wrapping a towel around his arm, Bobby joined them near the unconscious angel.

"I told him that might come in handy someday."

Dean and Sam lifted their eyebrows in a matching silent query, their expressions echoing the one Cass wore earlier, though none of them would ever know it.

"Before he passed out last time, he drew that to protect himself. I made him teach it to me just in case we needed it again."

"Good thinking Bobby," Dean said approvingly. "So now what?"

"Let me see him," Bobby said, gently pushing Dean and Sam aside. Kneeling down, Bobby did a quick check but found no other wounds than the one on his arm. Hardly more than a scratch, the elder hunter couldn't imagine that it would be giving the angel this much trouble, but he wanted to get a closer look.

"Sam, get me something to wash this off."

Sam returned a minute later with a large stainless steel bowl filled with warm water and a couple of clean cloths. Dean and Bobby had already gotten Cass out of his coat and rolled up the sleeve of his bloody arm. Washing away the blood gently, Bobby studied the gash carefully, rolling the angel's arm back and forth as he studied the skin around the wound.

"Balls," he whispered sadly.

"What?" Dean asked.

"Take a look, what does that look like to you two?" Bobby asked, holding up Cass' limp appendage for them both to see. The cut from the blade was barely two inches long and not very deep. But running up from the slice, red striations traced ugly lines into the angel's flesh. Even as they watched, the stripes seemed to grow thicker, leading farther up towards his elbow.

"Poison?" Sam asked in shock. "What can poison an angel?"

"Got me," replied Bobby, putting Cass' arm down. "But whatever it is must be pretty powerful. This wound is fresh. I can't imagine he got it more than a few minutes before he got here and it's already brought him down."

With a shuddering sigh, Dean wiped a hand through his hair and said what they were all thinking.

"That can't be a good sign."


	2. Chapter 2

_Hi folks!_

_Wow, thanks so much for all the wonderful reviews, alerts, favorites, etc for this story. Knowing how many people are enjoying it, makes it that much more fun to write. _

_I know I've said it before, but I also want to say again how much I appreciate all the support I've gotten from y'all. Without you guys and your wonderful encouragement, I would never have had the guts to pursue a writing career. This week was especially exciting as I had my first big assignment – travelling to Atlanta, Georgia for a visit to the set and interviews with the cast of USA's new show, Necessary Roughness. I just got back a couple days ago and I'm still writing up everything but it will all be posted at Daemon's TV within the next week or so (just in time for the series to premiere later this month). This coming week, I am off to Toronto to visit the sets of both Covert Affairs and another new show, Suits. _

_Fanfiction gave me the guts to dive into this new career so every time something new happens, I always feel the need to thank you guys so again, thank you!_

_FYI – if you want to read any of my reports, see the pics I took from the sets, or read any of my other articles (including those for my Supernatural column), reviews, etc, then head on over to my profile page and there you will find links to my Twitter, Facebook page and Daemon's TV page – which is where all will be posted. _

_And now, on with the story! :o)_

oooOOOOoooOOOOooo

Chapter 2

After deciding first and foremost that they were in deep trouble, the second thing the trio decided was to move the ailing angel to Bobby's room since it had the only bed (other than the rickety cot in the panic room) in the house. Though the elder hunter's home was fairly large, most of it was taken up by various books, objects, herbs, weapons, and everything else he used in his line of work. After his wife had died, Bobby had hated how empty the place felt and did everything he could to fill it up with as much crap as possible.

In more recent years, he had even made one of the upstairs rooms into a supernatural lockdown, similar to the one John had created in a storage unit years ago. It held dangerous artifacts that couldn't be destroyed, all in a variety of lock boxes, protected by charms and sigils to keep them from getting out and doing harm to the unwary.

When the Winchesters had been kids visiting the place with their father, John had slept in the one spare room Bobby still had back then. Sam and Dean argued over the couch, though Dean usually took the floor anyways, always willing to do anything to keep his little brother from whining all night. They had gotten so used to the sleeping arrangements that it didn't faze them one bit when, as adults, they found that Bobby didn't have a spare room any longer. Even if he had, they would have just had to argue over who would have slept there. Sleeping in the living room as they always had, one on the floor and one on the couch, just seemed like the simpler option.

Claiming that he hated research anyway, Dean volunteered to sit with Cass once they had the angel settled in Bobby's room. That wasn't really the reason why he opted for nurse duty and they all knew it, but neither Sam nor Bobby commented as they both went to work. Dean may tease the "nerdy angel" within an inch of his life, but from him that was a sign of affection. The eldest Winchester had taken the angel under his own wing, adopting him as another brother. One thing Dean took extremely seriously was the protection of his family. If Sam were in the same plight, Dean would be by his side. He saw no reason not to do the same for Cass.

Dean had already filled a basin with cool water. Pulling up a chair, he sat beside the old iron bed where the angel lay. Wringing out a wash cloth, Dean put it on Cass' forehead. Over the years, he had learned one major rule about supernatural illnesses: if you don't know what it is, treat the symptoms. Cass was suffering from an unknown poison and even though none of them had a clue what it could be, one thing Dean knew he could do was try to keep the angel's fever down. Considering the fact that they were dealing with something that was currently kicking the ass of one of the strongest beings he'd ever encountered, Dean couldn't help but to feel a bit foolish. Still, it was better than sitting on his hands or trying to concentrate on a dusty old book when all of his attention would be on Cass anyway. Might as well make himself useful.

Suddenly Cass shifted on the bed, flinging his head so violently that the cloth dropped to the floor beside him with a wet sound.

"Hey, easy there buddy. You know, I gotta wash these every time they land on the floor and you wouldn't believe how picky Bobby can be about his delicates. Give a guy a break, will ya Cass?" Dean said jokingly to the angel, a part of him hoping that Cass would wake up, even if it was just to argue with him about wash cloths not actually being a delicate. _Yeah well, tell Bobby that_, Dean thought.

Before he could wet another cloth, Cass moved violently again, nearly sitting up. His eyes stayed tightly closed, but it looked to Dean like maybe he was trying to speak. No words came though and the angel continued to twist and turn on the sheets, as if fighting an unseen force.

"Cass, come on, don't make me tie you down," Dean joked again, a little sadly this time. Tying down Sam during his demon blood incidents had been one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do. Sure it had been for his brother's own good, but it didn't mean the older Winchester had liked it. Doing the same for Cass would suck just as hard and he really hoped it wouldn't have to come to that. Though if the angel was in danger of hurting himself, it was an option they would have to think about.

"Dammit Cass," Dean said quietly, struggling to hold the flailing angel down. For a relatively puny little guy (at least when compared to the Winchesters), he sure had a lot of spunk. After getting a particularly good knock on the nose though, Dean wisely grabbed Cass' hands and held them at his sides until the episode ended.

"How is he?" Sam said just then, walking into the room followed closely by Bobby.

"Just peachy," Dean grumbled. "Got anything?"

"Yeah, at least I think I figured it out," Sam replied, pulling open the book he had with him and opening it to the page he had marked. "And there's good news and bad news."

"C'mon Sam, you know I hate that game."

"Sorry. It's kinda complicated. What I mean is that the first thing we found out was that it may not be fatal."

Dean brightened up immediately. "Awesome. So what's wrong with him?"

Sam swallowed. "Demon blood."

"What do you mean demon blood? How can demon blood be wrong with him?" Dean had sudden visions of Sam slicing into demon flesh and sucking at the wound; of his brother picking up a jug of demon blood out of the Impala's trunk and begging Dean not to watch him drink. Shaking his head, he willed the images from his mind.

"He means that whoever gave Cass a poke made sure to dip their blade in some demon blood before they did it," Bobby answered for Sam, eyeing Dean carefully. Demon blood was a bit of a touchy subject with the elder Winchester.

"Okay, but you said it can't kill him, right? So what's the bad news?"

Sam sighed and looked quickly over at Bobby before answering. "What you have to understand Dean, is that demon blood is pernicious. Just a small amount is apparently all that is needed to get this result," Sam jutted his chin at Cass, who was currently showing every sign of being in pain, despite his unconsciousness. "The demon blood attacks the angel blood, just like a normal virus in a human."

"But you said…," Dean began again.

"I know," Sam held up a hand. "I'm just trying to explain what's going on."

"Dean, we can't be sure," Bobby cut in, "but we think that if Cass leaves the vessel, there's a good chance that will cure it. At that point there won't be any angel blood for the demon blood to fight with and it'll just go dormant."

"So, what?...all Cass has to do is leave his vessel for a little while and he'll be fine?" Dean asked. It couldn't be that simple, could it? "Then let's wake his ass up and get him outta there."

Before Sam or Bobby could answer, someone else did it for them.

"No."

Sam, Dean, and Bobby turned as one at the weak voice. Castiel was awake and watching them all, his eyes glistening brightly from fever. He tried sitting up, but quickly gave up when his body wouldn't cooperate. Staying where he was, the angel struggled to speak and Dean went to his side, bending down to hear the soft words.

"What, Cass?"

"Cannot….leave….vessel."

"Why?" Sam asked, walking up to the other side of the bed and kneeling down to hear the angel's words. "Won't that fix this? Can't you just let Jimmy have his body back for a little while?"

"Yeah Cass, we won't let him escape this time. We swear." Dean said with a small grin.

"Demon infection will only grow stronger…..will not affect Jimmy…...but contaminate the vessel," Cass paused to cough wetly. "If I leave...can never return to this body."

Dean was nearly afraid to ask his next question. "And there's no other vessel for you except Jimmy's daughter, is there?"

Cass shook his head. "Only lesser ones…..can't do…..what I need to do…...in a lesser vessel."

Those in the room that were still on their feet stared at each other, digesting Cass' words. When he'd been tossed out of Jimmy's body in a fight, Cass had come back just in time to enter the man's daughter and take a mortally wounded Jimmy to heaven. Until the loving father had begged the angel not to subject his little girl to a life strapped on the (literal in Cass' case) coattails of such a powerful being. Granting the man's wish, Castiel had left the girl and re-entered his original vessel. The angel had no intentions of going back on that promise, but nor could he take on a lesser vessel; as Lucifer had been forced to do while waiting for Sam, his true vessel, to say yes. They had all seen how a lesser vessel broke apart when occupied by an angel and, even in his weakened state, Cass was fully aware he could not take that chance. Not with what needed to be done.

"Well then I guess that's it, then," Bobby said, crossing his arms at the foot of the bed. "Looks like he's just gonna have to ride it out."

Dean looked down at the figure lying in the bed, unsure if that was possible. Exhausted by the few short sentences he'd managed to croak out, Cass appeared to be out cold again. Taking Sam and Bobby by their arms, Dean led them both out into the hallway.

"Do you think he can?" Dean began in a fierce whisper. "Ride it out I mean? He doesn't exactly look like a guy who's up for it. Besides, the only possible cure you guys found was for him to leave that body. How the hell do we know if he can survive at all?"

Bobby shrugged his shoulders. "You heard him, clear as I did."

"Look man, Bobby's right," Sam added. "It's not like we can force him out of there. If Cass has decided to try and stick it out, there's nothing we can do except try and help him."

Dean wanted to argue, he wanted to scream and holler and yell until his face was blue and someone agreed with him. But the only person whose opinion mattered was Cass, and besides the fact that he was currently taking a demon blood-induced nap, Dean was fully aware that one of the many things that his adopted brother had gotten from him was stubbornness. If Cass wanted to wait it out, then that's what Cass was going to do; there was very little that Dean or anybody else could do about it.

Looking back at the bed, Dean sighed resolutely.

"Crap."


	3. Chapter 3

_Hi folks!_

_Not much to say this time except thanks again for all the reviews, updates, etc. My trip to Toronto was great and the casts of both shows were very welcoming. Some of you may have noticed that I'm now back working on my other WIP and though balancing two stories (in two different genres no less) is challenging, it's also quite fun. _

_And now, back to the story!_

_-Moki_

oooOOOoooOOOooo

Chapter Three

After Castiel made his weighty announcement to the group (which he had followed up by promptly passing out again), everyone pretty much went back to their previous places. Sam and Bobby decided to look for more information about the demon blood virus, to see if they could find a way to help Cass fight it. Meanwhile, Dean was back on angel watch, sitting at the bedside and feeling about as useless as tits on a bull.

For a while, Cass hung on fairly well and Dean had begun to feel slightly better about the angel's plan to stick it out in his vessel. Holding his own against the demonic cocktail running through his veins, the angel hardly moved or made a sound for the first couple of hours during the hunter's vigil. But just as Dean started to think that maybe Cass did have a fighting chance of beating this thing, he slowly started getting worse.

At first the change was subtle. In fact, had Dean not been sitting by the angel's side and staring at him for any signs of change, he might not have noticed it at all. Cass' body began shivering every so slightly. Not nearly enough to shake the bed, but just enough to cause a slight rippling of the bedsheets tucked around him.

Then there was the color of his skin. Though Cass couldn't be considered tan by any stretch of the imagination (it's not like the angel could lay out in the sun at his leisure), the pallor he'd adopted in the past couple hours was definitely not normal to Dean's familiar eyes.

Then, as Dean reached forward for the umpteenth time to wipe the same wet cloth across Cass' pale forehead, he noticed yet another sign that all was not well. If Cass were human, Dean was damn sure he'd be dead as a doornail right about then. The heat radiating off of his skin was like a furnace turned up on high….and in hell.

Once the fever switched gears to the super-flaming heat setting, the mumbling started. Like everything else, it began fairly subtly. First there were only a few twitches here and there, causing the cloth to drop on the floor a few more times and getting the angel a bit tangled in the sheets. Each time it happened, Dean would patiently pick up the cloth or disentangle the bedclothes without complaint.

And then the rantings really kicked into high gear.

Dean was ashamed to find that the first time it happened, he had dozed off. After sitting with the angel most of the night, the silence in the house had got to him. Bobby and Sam had been downstairs with their books (probably taking turns napping with their heads on the table) and before Dean knew it, his chin had bobbed forward onto his chest. Suddenly hearing Cass' voice, the hunter's head popped up quicker than lightning and for about a half second his heart had leapt, thinking his friend must be okay if he was talking.

One look at the face on the pillow and Dean knew that Cass was anything but okay. Eyes still clamped tightly shut, the angel continued to burn with fever. His flushed skin practically setting the sheets on fire, Cass tossed and turned more violently as each minute passed, talking and mumbling incoherently.

"No…..can't stop….must…."

"Shh…easy Cass. There's nothing you need to do right now but muster up some angel mojo and kick some demon blood ass, you hear?" Dean said, doubting that the angel heard him but needing to respond nonetheless.

"I'm sorry…I know…it's wrong…no…..other…..choice."

That got Dean's attention. Forehead furrowed, the hunter contemplated this new piece of intel. Now just what could Cass have to be sorry about? Sure he'd made mistakes in the past but as far as Dean knew, the guy was fighting the big fight against Raphael upstairs and had brought on a civil war. In Dean's book that sort of behavior didn't rate an apology to anyone; it deserved a pat on the back and a celebratory shot of whiskey.

"Hey just chill out, Cass. Nothing to be sorry for, alright?" Dean wasn't sure why he kept answering Cass' obviously confused ramblings, he just couldn't seem to help himself.

"Please…..," Cass' voice was piteous in its plea and the sound of it damn near broke Dean's heart. "Please….tell me…..what to do….Father…."

Sitting back in his chair, Dean sighed. _So that was it_, he thought.

Dean was certain now that Cass was worried about what his Father thought of him starting a civil war up in Heaven. Dean's opinion of the angel's Father pretty much bordered on the opinion he'd once had about his own dad. It was the same attitude he'd formed right about the time the man had shown up out of the blue after never responding to the many phone calls both he and Sam had made - only to then berate Dean for not telling him about Sam's psychic abilities.

"Hey Cass," Dean leaned forward again and spoke directly into the angel's ear. "You don't worry about what your Father thinks about what you're doing. If He thinks that you're doing something wrong then He needs to get his butt down here and tell you. If not? Then I say screw Him. Got it? You're doing the right thing Cass."

Dean was shocked when his words only seemed to rile the feverish angel up even more, almost as if Cass protested what the hunter had just said. Knowing that didn't make a lick of sense, Dean wrote off the increased agitation as further effects of the demon blood virus. Within a few minutes, Cass' body apparently grew too tired to even continue the ranting and he fell back into a somewhat quieter sleep.

Castiel continued to go through the same pattern throughout the night; ranting and raving for minutes on end, only to pass out completely when his body grew too exhausted to continue. As the hunter watched his friend's condition worsen, he couldn't believe his luck. He had thought, stupidly thought, that maybe things were going to be okay for a little while. He'd lost both of his parents; he'd lost countless friends - all in the battles and skirmishes to keep the planet safe for people who didn't even know there was a need for them to be protected.

Dean was used to the fight. He'd had a year away from it and had still been drawn back in; he knew there was no way out for him now. He would never live a normal life. He was just happy that he'd had a taste of normal for those months. But now he was in it for the long haul.

No, it wasn't that Dean expected an end to the battles; he knew there would always be creatures and enemies to fight. What he'd thought though was that maybe, just maybe, he would have his family around him to battle with him. He and Sam were back together again and Bobby was closer to them than their dad had ever been. Then Castiel had come along; another brother to struggle alongside with. With those three by his side, Dean was okay with the warfare. He knew that they could all make it through almost anything together, just look at how many times they had done it already.

So why now? Why was he sitting in a chair staring at an iron bed with someone in it that was as close to family as he could get, and also happened to be dying? The scene was so much like the time that he'd sat at Sam's bedside, his brother's body growing colder by the minute after the knife wound had spilled his life's essence onto the muddy ground. In fact, the scene before him reminded him so much of that time that Dean felt quick tears burning at his eyes.

_Dammit Winchester_, he berated himself. _Cass isn't dead yet. Get ahold of yourself. _

But even as he tried to convince himself to calm down, Dean felt the feelings of fear, dread and grief growing inside. Why couldn't things just stay the same for a little while? Why did he always, ALWAYS, have to lose the people he cared about most in his life? Was it too much to ask to have a small group of family surrounding him? Was he being too stingy to ask for more since he had Sam and Bobby? Was getting Cass just too much? Was having Castiel at his side a tip of the scales towards happiness that he, Dean Winchester, didn't deserve?

Hands shaking, Dean forced himself out of the chair that had been his prison for the past few hours. Going to the window, he looked outside and saw nothing but darkness. The lights from a distant highway barely glowed far out on the horizon. Taking a deep breath, Dean made an effort to calm his breathing. After a couple of minutes, when he began to feel almost normal again, he turned back to the bed. Walking over, he sat down in the familiar chair again, putting both elbows on his knees and folding his hands. To a casual observer it might have looked like Dean was praying, but if asked he would have denied it. To him, he was just talking to his friend.

"Cass, I need you to fight this. I can't lose you too, I just…..can't."

oooOOOoooOOOooo

After a long night, the sun finally rose and when the light came into the window Dean rubbed his eyes wearily, scrubbed his fingertips through his hair a few times in an attempt to wake up. Not daring to let himself doze off for more than a few minutes at a time the entire night, he was currently doing a fairly spot-on impression of an extra in The Walking Dead.

The effort wouldn't have seemed half as bad if he'd had anything to show for it, but even after his impassioned plea Castiel seemed worse than ever. Ever hopeful that the angel would somehow beat the virus in one night, Dean had thought he'd find his friend looking better by the time the sun rose.

No such luck.

Bobby and Sam had each poked their heads in once or twice during the night on their way to bathroom breaks, spelling Dean at Cass' bedside so he could make a quick trip to the head himself. Despite searching every book and manuscript Bobby could think of, he and Sam had gotten nowhere and the sunrise found them both rubbing their own red eyes as they closed the last of the volumes that they thought might hold the answer.

Yawning and stretching, Sam got up from the table, groaning as his body protested the movement after so many hours stuck in a chair.

"Do you want to tell him or should I?" Bobby asked, not willing to get up from his position quite yet, knowing his aches would probably be twice as bad as the much younger Winchester's were.

"I'll do it," Sam said with a sigh, turning to head up the stairs and deliver the news to his brother that they had been unable to find a single text that described a way to help an angel beat a virus from demon blood poisoning.

As Sam approached Bobby's room, he slowed his steps to walk quietly into the room, afraid to disturb the angel's troubled sleep. The couple times he had taken a turn at his bedside, Sam had been frightened to see the terrible changes in Castiel. The once strong and fierce being had been reduced to a sickly pale creature in just a matter of hours. As much as he'd hated thinking the thoughts lest they come true, one look at the angel and Sam felt sadly certain that he would probably not last more than another day, maybe two, tops.

Sam could see Dean leaning forward in his chair, one hand over his mouth as he lightly drew his fingers back and forth across his lips. His eyes never left Castiel's face and Sam wondered what exactly was going through his brother's mind at that moment. Wishing he could do anything except tell Dean the bad news he had, Sam crossed the threshold into the room.

"Dean…," Sam began sadly.

Dean looked up in quiet surprise, unaware that he was being watched. One look into his baby brother's eyes and Dean didn't have to be told that they'd found no miracle cure. He said nothing though, waiting for Sam to tell him.

But before Sam could speak, another voice erupted in the room.

"We've got to change the way we've been going about this," it was Bobby's voice, and not Sam's, that broke the silence.

The Winchesters both turned their heads to the doorway, neither of them having heard the hunter come down the hallway or into the room.

"How?" Sam asked.

"Well, I just realized we've been treating Cass like a human, dealing with the symptoms just as we would for any sort of poisoning. But he's not a human, he's an angel… and this isn't just any regular poisoning."

Suddenly the stress and frustration from sitting at his friend's side the entire night got to Dean and he snapped. Standing up, he approached Bobby, speaking in an angry whisper.

"Really? He's an angel and this isn't a normal poisoning? Gee Bobby, I don't think any of us knew that. Thanks so much for providing us with your wonderful insight."

Seeing the clouds gathering in the older hunter's expression, Sam stepped in before things got any more heated. Reaching out, the younger Winchester gripped Bobby's arm, catching his gaze and silently pleading with the man to let it go. They had all seen how hard Dean was taking Cass' situation, worrying as much as he would if either he or Bobby had been the ones lying, possibly dying, in that bed.

Dean regretted the words as soon as they left his lips and hid his embarrassment by walking over to the window. Gripping the sill in his hands, he took a few deep breaths before turning back to face the other two.

"Bobby?" Sam queried. "What were you thinking?"

Bobby looked like he wanted to say something else to Dean, but catching the younger Winchester's eyes again, he held his tongue and went on with his original thought.

"I'm thinking that we have to start thinking of Cass as an angel and his body as a vessel. Right now that vessel is being over-powered by demon blood. What he needs is something that can fight it off."

"Like?" Dean asked quietly.

"Well, like you."


	4. Chapter 4

_Hi folks! _

_In regards to the method with which Dean will help Cass, I just want to say that there will be reference to an "instrument" and that I did indeed find this thing on the internet and researched a bit on how it was used. Other than that though, I made it all up and I hope if the medical science is off that y'all will cut me a little break for the sake of the story. _

_Thanks again for all the wonderful reviews, alerts, etc! Hop y'all enjoy the latest chapter. :o)_

Chapter Four

"Me?" Dean asked incredulously, looking back and forth between the two men. "I'm no angel, what can I do to help him?"

Dean's voice did nothing to hide the helplessness he'd felt ever since Cass had collapsed. Was this Bobby's idea of a sick joke? A way to remind him that he had no power to help his adoptive brother?

"You can give him some of your blood."

Dean stared at Bobby. Now he found himself simply wondering if the old guy had finally lost his noodle.

"What the hell good will that do?"

"It may not do anything, but since you're an angel vessel I'm guessing that there's a good chance it will help him fight off the effects of the demon blood," Bobby stated simply.

Sam and Dean's mouths opened in matched surprise, though Sam managed to recover more quickly than his shell-shocked older brother. How had they all managed to forget that Dean was an angel vessel? If anyone could help, it would be him.

"Bobby that is brilliant." Sam said, a slow grin forming on his face.

"Well I'm glad that you two have decided that this is a great plan, but would someone mind explaining just how me opening up a vein is supposed to help Cass?"

"Dean, your blood, for all intents and purposes, is bound to be full of antibodies, at least for Cass. It may not be pure angel blood, but it's a damn sight better than the demon crap he's got floating through him now," Bobby replied.

"Bobby's right, Dean," Sam added. "I bet if we give him a dose of some clean blood, he'll be able to fight this."

Dean was silent for a bit, then looked over his shoulder to look at the ailing angel behind him. He didn't understand the science behind it but if Sam and Bobby were convinced that there was a way to help Cass, Dean was sure as hell going to try it.

"Alright," he said, turning back to the others. "So how do we get this party started?"

_**0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0**_

"Is there any reason I couldn't do this sitting in a chair?" Dean griped an hour later.

"You need to be lying as flat as possible and you know this was the only way," Sam replied consolingly, sparing his brother a sympathetic glance.

Once they had decided to go through with the plan, Bobby had scoured his collection of odds and ends until he'd come up with a rather medieval looking instrument that featured small hoses and a pump in the middle. Bobby had tried to explain how it would work, going into details about taking blood from him and putting it into Cass, but Dean had told the elder hunter to skip the science lesson and just get on with it.

After the thing was sterilized, Bobby and Sam had given Dean the particulars about how they were going to go about it. The part he hadn't expected was that it meant he and Cass were going to have to share a bed…sort of. With the need to keep both donor and recipient as close as possible and at the same level, there was no place else to put Dean except right next to the angel. The elder Winchester had grumbled but eventually realized there was no other way around it and lay down next to his friend, extending his arm for Bobby to wipe off with alcohol and gauze.

"Stop complaining, you idjit, and quite wiggling around, I gotta stick you now," Bobby ordered, pulling Dean's arm straighter.

"Whatev….hey!" Dean looked at Bobby in painful surprise at the voracity with which he'd just been stabbed with the needle. "You know Bobby, shoving that thing all the way through my wrist isn't gonna make this go any faster."

"Neither will flapping your yap, now shut up and lie still."

Concentrating hard, Bobby carefully hooked up the ancient instrument and connected one end to Dean's wrist. Waiting until the blood from his vein started flowing; Bobby turned a clamp to keep it from going any farther. Then he carefully inserted the second needle into the vein in Castiel's elbow. Once he was sure he was in, Bobby released the clamp on the pump and soon Dean's blood began flowing into the angel's body.

Despite the harsh words, Sam had to hide a smile as he stood by watching the process. He handed Bobby a piece of tape to hold the line in Dean's arm and then another for Cass. Sam knew that the two hunters taking strips out of each other like that was a sign that they were both in pretty good spirits. Things just might be taking a turn for the better after all. At least now there was hope.

As Bobby and Sam worked over them both, Dean looked over at Cass' pale face lying only inches from his own. It suddenly struck him as funny; so many times he'd asked the naïve angel to observe his personal space when they'd first met, and now here he was effectively invading the angel's space. Dean knew it was for a good cause, but lying down in the same bed with Cass was definitely not something he thought would be part of the deal.

Lifting his head slightly, Dean watched his blood drip into the tube and gently slide its way towards Castiel. Though he was lying on his back and being about as lazy as a person could be at that moment, he finally felt useful. After all that time of worrying, Dean had found something he could do to help his friend. And really, what could be easier than laying back and letting his blood do all the work? If being a hero were always this easy, he wouldn't have gathered a fraction of the scars he had on his body (and those were just the ones he'd already managed to get in the past couple years since Cass had pulled him from the pit and given him a shiny new body).

When he was sure that his blood must have entered the angel's system, Dean found himself watching closely to see if he could spot an immediate change. Nearly holding his breath, he looked for any sign, no matter how small, that what they were doing was working. After a minute or two, he became disappointed and let his head flop back onto the pillow with a pout.

Sam had seen the entire thing, reading his brother's face like the open book it usually was to him.

"Hey man, just because nothing has happened yet doesn't mean it won't happen," Sam reminded him kindly.

The older Winchester had just opened his mouth to reply with a snappy comment (he had one all cued up, too and it was gonna be a doozy) when something actually did start to happen. The only trouble was that it wasn't happening to Cass.

Before Dean could say a word to his brother, the oddest sensation came over him. If he'd had to articulate it, he wasn't sure if he'd been able to but the best simile he could come up with at that very second was a vacuum. It felt like something was draining him and feeding on…..his soul? His mind? Dean couldn't pinpoint it.

Then suddenly he did pinpoint it.

It was sucking at his blood, and it was pulling his mind with it.

Being a hunter, Dean Winchester was not unfamiliar with having his body bitten, chomped, sucked on and basically used as a chew toy by various monsters on occasion. It wasn't a part of the job that he'd put in the brochure (then again, what part *would* he put in a brochure?), but it usually happened to all hunters at one time or another. Heck, once Dean had even been bitten by a vampire and nearly turned into one himself. Needless to say he was well versed in the procedure.

This though, this felt different. First of all the last time he checked, no one had their fangs sunk into him. Though there was a needle in his arm, it still wasn't enough to generate this kind of sensation. As his mind and consciousness continued to be pulled farther and farther down - apparently following the blood leaving his body - he could only foggily conclude that it had to do with Castiel.

_Is Cass hurting me? Is he somehow sucking at my blood to replace his own?_ Dean's mind wondered. _"Was this whole thing some sort of a plan?"_

As quickly as he had the thought, Dean dismissed it. No chance would Cass do something like that. No way would the angel purposely hurt him. Besides, the angel was still out to the world.

_So what is happening? _

_**0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0**_

After Sam had given Dean his little encouragement speech, he'd been pleased to see that his brother had appeared to relax immediately. In fact, it looked like he'd actually started dozing off. Shrugging to himself, Sam figure that was a good thing. Losing blood (whether it was voluntary or not), could take it out of a person. If Dean needed a nap, Sam could hardly blame him. It had been a long couple of days.

A minute or two later, Sam had one of those gut instincts that came from not only having the job he had, but spending nearly every waking moment with his brother since the time he was six months old.

Something was wrong with Dean.

"Dean?" Sam said softly, not wanting to wake his brother if he really was asleep and cause the elder Winchester to give him a tongue-lashing for interrupting a perfectly good nap. When Dean didn't respond right away, Sam couldn't help but to try a little harder, giving his brother's shoulder a shake.

Bobby, who had been putting away his instruments, looked up sharply at Sam's quiet query. As much as Sam knew Dean, Bobby knew both of them. The tone of the younger Winchester's voice put him on instant alert.

"What's up?"

"I don't know," Sam replied honestly, still unable to rouse Dean. "But something is."

Bobby looked down at his patients. Castiel looked exactly as he had before they had started the procedure. But when his eyes passed over Dean, the older hunter immediately saw what Sam had. Dean didn't look asleep, he looked unconscious. Plus his skin had grown pale and a slight slick of sweat had begun to cover his features.

"What the hell-?" Bobby said. "He hasn't given nearly enough blood to Cass to look like that."

"Do you think we should….stop?"

Sam hated asking. Clean blood from an angel vessel had been the only remote possibility they had come up with to save the angel and if it didn't work...well, Sam wasn't sure if Cass would survive the rest of the day. But as much as Sam cared about Castiel, he wasn't ready to risk Dean's life.

"Maybe...," Bobby replied. "I just don't get it."

Making preparations to pull the line out of Dean's vein, Bobby was surprised when a hand came out of nowhere and gripped his arm.

"No. Leave it."

Dean's eyes were closed and the only part of his body that had moved from the bed was the hand he currently had wrapped about Bobby's wrist. Yet there was no doubt who he was talking to or what he meant.

_**0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0**_

Once Dean had decided that whatever he was experiencing wasn't evil in nature, he let it take over. Like a man walking into a dark hallway and spying a light at the end, Dean followed to see where this new sensation led. Time lost all meaning but he had the impression that it didn't take long for him to reach his destination.

When he got there, he found a familiar face. No, that wasn't right. There were no bodies where he was, no vestiges, vessels, meat suits or whatever else you wanted to call them. This was pure energy and though it was only light, color, sound and sensation, Dean recognized it immediately.

_Castiel_.

Though the hunter had never had occasion to view his friend in this form before, he also recognized that what he was seeing wasn't normal. Something about Castiel was "off" and instinctively Dean knew it was from the demon blood poisoning. Castiel was essentially lying in a corner, frightened and sick; and immediately the older Winchester understood that he had been brought here to save him. Just as Dean, as a soul, had been lying naked and abused in a corner in Hell.

In between the torture, in between the times they forced him to torture, they'd thrown Dean into a filthy cage. It had been there, huddled into a pathetic whimpering ball that a light had found its way to him; that a hand had reached out and gripped his arm, throwing him back to earth with a strength and speed that rivaled a meteor's journey through the atmosphere. Dean remembered that instant now, here in this time and this place, though his physical mind would never remember it again. In this place he remembered and he understood that it was his turn to return the favor.

_Cass? _

Dean reached with his mind and soul softly, warily, not wanting to scare the frightened angel before him. At first there was no reply, then…

_Dean? _


	5. Chapter 5

_Hey folks!_

_I know it's been a while since I've posted but once you see what I have been up to recently, I have a feeling you may forgive me…..maybe. As I posted a few months ago, I've been working really hard getting my freelance writing career off the ground (again, a big thanks to all my fanfiction fans for all the support that helped me to get to this point)._

_In July I experienced something, well, rather surreal. Writing as I do for Daemon's TV, I've gotten somewhat used to getting to be a part of all of my favorite television shows. But when I went to Comic Con in San Diego, I got to experience it on a whole new level. As a full-fledged member of the press, I visited many press rooms at the convention. The highlight of the week happened I got the chance to interview the cast of Supernatural. It was beyond amazing to get to speak to the people who have created these characters that I love so much._

_To see videos of the interviews, check out my profile page. I've put a link there to my blog post all about my adventures at Comic Con, which includes the videos from my Supernatural interviews and others._

_And now, back to the story! :o)_

Chapter Five

_Cass? _

_Dean? _

They weren't really words. They were more like images. Thoughts that added up to concepts that the two of them understood.

_I'm going to get you out. _

Dean felt a pull from another part of the world; the part that held his body and Castiel's vessel. With a sudden flash, Dean got the image of Bobby pulling the needle and tubing from his arm. Everything in his very being screamed out in protest, knowing that those physical things were all that were keeping him attached in spirit to the angel. They were the only things that would save Castiel.

Still buried deep within the other plane, Dean somehow found the strength to be in two places at once. Putting everything he had into it, he forced his meat suit to stop Bobby from cutting the tenuous contact he had with Cass.

_**0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0**_

From the moment Castiel had lost consciousness and nearly ended up cracking his head on Bobby's floor, he'd been stuck in a nightmare. Demon blood poisoning didn't just affect the host vessel; it attacked the spirit of the unfortunate victim as well. That was part of its strength and what made it that much more dangerous. The angel affected by it was sent into a personal Hell not unlike the one experienced by all three of the Winchester men. Bred by the blood, creatures made of darkness came into being; biting and tearing at the celestial body. All while, the virus-like poison did its own number on the physical vessel.

Not too many angels could survive the vicious two-pronged attack. Of those poisoned, angels of the lesser classes would expire almost immediately, getting lost in the blackness and the terror. Once in the depths of the illness, even the stronger angels would eventually succumb. Their grace would give out and without that vital part of their being they couldn't heal their physical form.

It was the world's worst catch-22 and Castiel had been there for more than 24 hours.

Those angels who didn't die right away passed into oblivion within a day, maybe a day and a half. The fact that Castiel was still alive was something of a miracle, but the battle was wearing the angel down. He'd long ago lost the ability to form clear thoughts and didn't even know where he was anymore. He couldn't remember a time where he wasn't trapped in blackness; screaming silently at the things that tore at him, causing more pain than a flesh-and-blood body could ever feel.

As he lay in terror, Castiel (if that was indeed his name, he couldn't be sure any longer) thought of giving up the fight. Truthfully he had been thinking of it for a while. But every time he nearly let the blackness completely take him and rob him of the last bits of consciousness he had left, something stopped him. Somewhere deep down, he knew that there was something he had to do. He didn't know what it was and he didn't know why, but it was important, that much he knew.

The fight had been a long one and Castiel didn't think he had much more left in him. Thoughts began to plague him. The thing that he had to do, was it really that important? Did it really need to be done? Couldn't someone else do it? He hurt. He hurt a lot. Couldn't he just let go and allow the blackness to completely take him? He had a feeling there would be no more agony where he would go. Why not? Why not just…

And that was when he heard the voice. Except that it wasn't a voice because there were no sounds where he was and no vocal chords to form them anyway. But he still he knew the one behind the call.

Breaking through the pain and suffering and the fear, the sound reached the trembling creature of light that Castiel had become.

_Cass? _

Somewhere Castiel found the strength to look up at the one who had come for him.

_Dean?_

_**0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0**_

Bobby and Sam stared at each other for a few seconds after Dean had made his demand. There was still no other sign of the hunter regaining consciousness but there was no doubt in either of their minds that they had to heed his request.

"Damn kid, I think this might actually be working." Bobby said, pointing suddenly to Cass' face. It was subtle, but there was a change there. Dean's face too, though not exactly better, was at least not worse.

"I think they're both fighting it now," Sam replied in shocked awe.

After about an hour, both Dean's and Castiel's condition improved. Getting no protest this time, Bobby silently stopped the transfusion, knowing that Dean had given all that he could to the angel physically.

Hours passed and neither angel nor man regained consciousness. Bobby and Sam had sensed that the battle was now being fought in a place they couldn't see. Somehow knowing that the two needed to remain physically close, they left Dean where he was. There was really nowhere else to put him anyway, except down in the panic room or on the couch downstairs. If they did that, they'd have to run back and forth between the two. It just seemed easier to have them both in the same spot.

As Sam tucked a blanket under his brother's chin, he couldn't help but to smile at the picture the two of them made on the bed together. It reminded him of he and Dean when they were little and their dad couldn't afford a room with more than two beds. The brothers had griped but young Sam had more often than not been perfectly happy to have his big brother by his side some of those nights. Even with their dad in the room, Sam had never felt safer than if Dean were there, too. Right now he hoped that Cass and Dean were somehow getting the same comfort.

_**0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0**_

Dean had always fought against opening up to anyone about his time in Hell. At first because he didn't want to remember it himself, then later because he didn't want to admit to anyone what he had done there. Nowadays he didn't talk about it mostly because he didn't want to give Sam any reason to scratch at that wall in his head.

One thing he'd never discussed was the end of the day in Hell. He had told Sam once that when they were done torturing him, his body would just magically be healed and everything would start all over again.

The truth was actually much worse.

When they were done, they would throw Dean in a cage - broken, naked and bloody. Occasionally, for added fun, they would hang him from meat hooks. Every night they would leave him in his cell to sleep (such as it was) and pull him out in the morning, his body whole once again. The truly sad thing was that without that schedule, Dean wouldn't have been able to mark the passing of days. It was their way of adding to the torture, to make him realize how long he had been there. Even when Dean had agreed to come off the rack and torture souls, they had still continued to throw him in a cage at night.

The night that Castiel had come, Dean had been balled into a corner, trembling as the memories off all that he had done that day had relentlessly replayed themselves over and over in his mind. Sleep was a long gone memory: something to be alternately treasured for its brief respite from the living nightmare and cursed for its ability to bring back the day in vivid detail through awful dreams.

Alastair and his minions had left Dean that night, their cackles echoing down the stone hallway met with answering groans and screams as they had gone searching for their next victim in another cell.

Dean hadn't been sure how long he had lain there, shivering on the cold floor, when something had caused him to look up. He had blinked as a light started to form in an upper corner of the cell. It became brighter as he watched and though Dean knew he should have felt fear from anything that would approach him in that awful world, he felt nothing but warmth.

The light materialized into a humanoid shape and Dean felt his fear continue to ebb away. Dean immediately knew that the being in front of him was a friend and would be a friend forever. Later, when Dean's head broke through the surface of the earth out of his grave, when his mind had chosen to forget the horrors of Hell and the one who had rescued him from it, deep down he still remembered the friend who had come to help him at his greatest time of need.

The shape of a hand formed within the light, reaching out towards Dean. When it gripped his arm, he gasped at the heat that came from it but did not back away. The pain was necessary, he could sense it. A necessary evil to be endured for the reward it would bring.

_Dean Winchester, you are saved._

The voice was like light itself and as it said the words, the being pulled Dean up until he felt himself being flung through the space and time. Memory and thought ceased moments later and would not return until Dean woke up in that coffin.

Now it was Dean's turn. Appearing to the injured angel as a light of friendship and strength, Dean reached down and grabbed Castiel by the arm.

_I__'__m __going __to __get __you __out._


	6. Chapter 6

_Hello all, _

_To say that this chapter is long overdue would be a massive understatement and I can only explain my absence from this story by saying that I have been doing a ton of writing…..just not here. Turns out when your job is writing, it can be hard to find the free time needed to play in the land of fanfic. But I promise that this story will be finished by New Year's Day (yes, this new year, as in 2013). The final chapter is nearly completed but I wanted to get this chapter up as an appetizer before giving you guys the main course. _

_Though it keeps me busy, I do still love my career and just wanted to mention to any of you who are perhaps new to my stories that I am still reviewing Supernatural, as well as writing for the weekly column (called "Supernatural Chat") on TV Equals. In fact, I was privileged to take part in an interview with Mr. Kripke himself right before Christmas and that interview will be posted on the column in the next couple weeks. Be sure to check out my profile to find out how you can view all of my work for sites including TV Equals, BuddyTV and Celebuzz. _

_But for now, back to the story!_

_**0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0**_

Chapter Six

The creatures gnawing at Castiel's being, the ones bred by the demon blood coursing through his host vessel, looked up at the intruder and hissed. They were enjoying a fresh meal and the fact that this one had held out so long meant that they'd had a particularly good one. There wasn't supposed to be anyone who could come and spoil their fun, and they weren't about to give up easily.

If Dean had been in the physical world, he would have reached for a shotgun and blown the things straight to Kingdom Come. Without his usual weapons, he was momentarily at a loss. Then he had a thought: if all of this was happening within his and Castiel's mind then his thoughts should be pretty damn powerful.

Dean turned his attention to the creatures surrounding Cas. "Get away from him, you mangy bastards. You want a fresh meal? Try me on for size."

_**0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0**_

By unspoken agreement, Bobby had taken on the role of angel keeper, while Sam kept his eyes on Dean. Pulling up a second chair, Sam sat down on Dean's side of the bed and he and Bobby watched as the sun went down, growing darker outside. Taking turns to run to the head or grab a quick cup of coffee, they sat vigil throughout another long night.

In that extra-cold hour that always seemed to come right before dawn, Bobby dozed lightly and Sam stared out the window, his eyes threatening to close with every passing second.

Then suddenly the energy in the room changed. Bobby's head popped up, Sam's eyes snapped open and they looked at each other worriedly, then they looked down at their charges.

As they watched in horror, the two figures on the bed simply stopped breathing. Identical breaths were taken then each set of lungs slowly deflated with matching sighs that ended with no sign of further inflation forthcoming.

"Bobby?" Sam's voice was only about two clicks away from full-on terrified.

But Bobby was already moving; he didn't have any idea if it would work, but CPR seemed to be about their only option. Bobby pinched Castiel's nose and blew a short breath into his throat. Next to him, he felt Sam doing the same for Dean.

"Come on, Cas," Bobby mumbled as he worked, hearing similar encouragements coming from Sam.

They worked for a few minutes, each of them getting more and more desperate. When things looked completely hopeless, Bobby was the first to stop his efforts. Looking sadly over at Sam, who was still working desperately on his brother, the older hunter reached out a gentling hand.

"Sam," Bobby said quietly.

Sam heard his name and knew what Bobby was trying to tell him, but right then he didn't want to hear it. There was no way that he was going to give up on his brother, not after everything. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. They couldn't lose both of them at the same time and from the same thing. They were supposed to have beaten this thing together. Dean and Castiel had been fighting for hours, how could they lose the battle now?

Feeling the hand on his bicep increase its grip, the younger Winchester finally stopped. Looking up at Bobby with tears in his eyes, Sam didn't know what to say.

Just then, at precisely same moment, two sets of eyes opened – one blue and one green. Two sets of lungs pulled in air and two voices spoke as one.

"Dean?"

"Cas?"

Hearing how close the other's voice was, Dean and Castiel both lifted their heads slightly off their respective pillows as they stared at each other in surprise.

"Dean?" Cas asked finally.

Dean let his dead drop back down on the pillow, the effort of holding it up proving to be just a bit too much for him at the moment. "Yeah Cas?"

"Haven't we talked about personal space?"

Bobby and Sam snorted in laughter and Dean jerked his head up to look at the angel lying next to him. Cas regarded him back unblinkingly with the same blank look he always wore…except that there was something else in those blue eyes this time. A twinkle of humor, perhaps?

Dean dropped his head back down again. "Bitch."

There was such a long pause that both Bobby and Sam were sure that the angel had either decided to let Dean have the last word or truly had no idea what to say in response. Just as Sam was ready to say something and break the mood, Cass spoke softly, staring almost thoughtfully at the ceiling.

"Assbutt."

_**0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0**_

Once the two were fully awake, Sam helped Dean to the couch downstairs while Bobby kept a watchful eye on Castiel. Within a few hours, both had recovered quite a bit of strength and Cas was even allowed to join Dean in the living room. With both resting comfortably on the couch, Bobby headed to the kitchen.

"I'm going to make some steaks tonight on the grill, you boys get cleaned up." Bobby nodded at Dean and Sam.

"Sounds excellent, I could use a good meal," Castiel said from his seat on the couch.

Sam and Dean paused on their way to get washed up. Bobby paused with a dish towel in his hand. Everyone stared. A hungry angel, like a sick angel or a sleeping angel, was not a good sign.

"There is nothing to worry about," Cas said, noting the discomfort of the other men. "This vessel has been weakened by the illness and needs food to re-fuel. Once I am at complete strength again, it won't be required."

"Fine," Bobby was the first to speak. "Then you get cleaned up, too. I saw all of you messing with my books earlier and I won't have anyone's grubby hands touching my tablecloth."

"Bobby, anyone ever tell you that you'd make a great housewife?" Even in his weakened state, Dean was able to make it out of the room before the thrown dish towel could hit him in the head.

The older hunter chuckled as he turned back to his meal prep. He already had a bunch of plates sitting on the counter and now it was time to get the cold stuff out. Reaching into the fridge, Bobby pulled out all of the ingredients he would need. His hands completely full, he absently used his hip to close the refrigerator door on his way out to the grill. Bobby never noticed that his action wiped off the sigil he had put there two days before.

An hour or so later, all four were eating the impressive spread of grilled steaks, baked potatoes and corn on the cob that Bobby had laid out before them. They were sitting at a simple wooden table and benches that Bobby had set up in the backyard on days like today, when the weather was warm enough to eat outside.

"Cas?" Sam asked quietly after they'd all had a chance to get a few bites into their meals.

"Yes?" The angel replied.

"How do you go without eating, really? I mean a body is flesh and blood, even with someone like you occupying it. Why doesn't it starve?"

"As I said before, food is simply fuel and fuel provides energy," Castiel explained. By way of demonstration he continued digging in heartily to his food, speaking around a mouthful. "When I occupy a vessel at full capacity, I can transfer pure energy to it. It is actually much more efficient than the human method of eating other organisms and turning them into energy. Your method also causes waste, while mine does not."

"Which is why angels never need a bathroom, either," Sam said, figuring out a question that had been on his mind for a long while, but he'd never quite figured out how to ask.

"Precisely," Cas replied without the least bit of embarrassment, shoveling a large bite of steak into his mouth and following it up with more baked potato. Usually Dean was the one stuffing his face with food as fast as he could get it on a fork, but tonight the angel was giving the older Winchester a run for his money.

"Well then…uh…what about….well….," Sam hesitated, curious about something else, but not wanting to put Castiel in an odd spot. "Um…now?"

"Do you mean will this body now have to expel waste because I have given it solid food? Of course," And Cas was back at his food.

"And another angel mystery solved," Dean piped up, swallowing a bite of his own steak and taking a swig of his beer.

Shoving in a final mouthful, Cas let loose with a belch that had Dean beaming with pride.

"There ya go! That's my boy," Dean said with a wide grin.

"Alright, you two chuckleheads, back to bed with both of you. If you think I can't see the way you're both dragging, then you must think I'm dumber than you look," Bobby announced suddenly, getting up from the table and pointing an imperious finger to the back door of the house. "Cas get upstairs and Dean get back on the couch."

Though neither had said anything during dinner, both angel and man were feeling the effects of their battle with the demon blood virus. The truth was that bed sounded good to both of them right then. Nodding acquiescingly, Dean and Castiel stood up and made for the door like good little boys.

"I am perfectly capable of walking, Dean," Castiel said, when the older Winchester came up behind him and put an arm on the angel's elbow.

"Yeah, but you've got some of my goods in you now, so I'm just watching my investment."

"For that…..thank you," Cas said simply, seemingly happy to finally say something he'd wanted to say for a while. "The sacrifice you made; you could have been killed yourself. An angel's vessel reacts very differently to demon blood than a normal human."

"Not like you wouldn't do the same thing for me, Cas. Hell, you already have. C'mon, Bobby's right, I'm ready to sleep for another day," Dean said, not willing to accept praise for something that he felt was part of his job as a hunter and brother.

"I, too, could sleep for a few more hours." Castiel agreed. He was just as happy as Dean that neither of them needed to say anymore about what had happened. Together, the two headed towards the house and their respective beds.

Too bad neither of them made it.

_**0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0**_

_Sorry for the evil cliffie but rest assured the ending is coming soon! Pinky swear!_

_-Moki_


	7. Chapter 7

_See? I promised I'd get this final chapter up by New Year's and here it is on New Year's Eve. Hope you guys enjoy it!_

_Also, I totally forgot to mention it in my last update, but another reason I've been busy is that I'm actually working on final rewrites of my very first original novel. It is going to be a paranormal type thriller so be sure to keep your eyes out for it sometime next year. _

_For now, here is the final chapter to this story. Hope you guys enjoy it. Thanks for taking this ride with me. I know it's been a long one, but it has been a lot of fun and I truly hope to be able to keep writing more fanfic in 2013. You guys are the best!_

_-Moki_

Chapter 7

Just as Dean reached for the door handle, he heard the familiar swish of wings. Thinking for one second that Cas had decided to disappear on them, he turned to his friend with a frown and a curse ready on his lips. But the curse never came.

Four angles in dark suits now stood around their dinner table, effectively blocking Sam and Bobby from going anywhere. Before Dean or Cas could reach the door, two of the angels came forward and grabbed them, pulling them towards what had to be their leader. The lead angel was a tall man with dark hair and dark, beady eyes. Dean wondered if the man's vessel had originally been an FBI or CIA agent. He had that clean cut look of military, but the softness of build that told of a man long gone from a battle field.

Cas knew he should feel flattered that Raphael had sent four from the upper echelon to attack him this time. But at the moment all he could do was worry for his friends and curse the fact that he was running at less than full capacity. Perhaps at full strength he could have taken on all four of his brethren in a hand-to-hand fight. In his current condition, and without his blade, that was going to make things extremely difficult.

The angel that grabbed Cas walked him in front of the leader, then went to stand guard next to Bobby, putting a gripping hand on the man's arm to keep him from going anywhere. Dean and Sam were similarly held, leaving Castiel to stand alone in front of the leader of the angel attack team.

"Raphael thought you would be dead by now," the leader began with a sigh. "Imagine his surprise when he suddenly felt your presence again a few hours ago. He is very frustrated with the additional work you have caused, but I assured him that I would handle the problem. I suggested that sending a cherub to do an angel's job would be a mistake, but you know Raphael, he is always convinced that he is right." The lead angel sauntered up to Castiel as he spoke; walking around in a circle and regarding his prey with barely hidden disdain.

"Honestly, I don't see what everyone is talking about," the angel continued. "I have heard many stories about the prowess of the great Castiel, and this is what I find?" He waved his hand derisively in Castiel's general direction, but directed his comments to his followers, who smiled evilly.

Sam, Dean and Bobby shared angry looks. You didn't talk down about their family in front of them and get away with it. Sam felt his body moving forward instinctively, ready to land a punch on the mouth that had dared to speak ill of his friend. A quick shake of Dean's head brought Sam back to his senses and he stood back, waiting with Bobby and Dean until an opportunity presented itself and they could break free.

Castiel did not react to the words of his brother. Standing tall with head raised and eyes trained forward, he hid the weariness he still felt from his illness. Taking a breath, he spoke with some disdain of his own. "If you thought so little of my abilities, why did you bring three others with you? Afraid you couldn't handle three humans and a sickly angel on your own? Or perhaps it was Raphael who thought you couldn't handle me on your own?"

Quicker that a flash, the leader was in front of Cas and had a hand around his throat. "Mind your tongue, boy, or I shall be forced to make your death a slow one."

Cas stared back at his attacker defiantly but said nothing. Finally, the lead angel let go of Castiel and backed away with a small chuckle.

"Well, maybe there is something to the stories after all. This is going to be a lot more fun than I thought. I do have to give you credit for being more clever than I expected." The angel said as he returned to his circling.

"Nice job getting the blood of another vessel, by the way," The leader continued. "I have to admit that little trick caught us off guard. Who knew these simian friends of yours could be so useful?" This time his gesture was towards the Winchesters and Bobby. "Guess we'll just have to try a little harder this time."

"Cas!"

At Dean's urgent call, Cas looked up in time to see a blade sailing towards him.

_**0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0**_

_Three minutes earlier…._

After Sam had nearly jumped in to defend Cas (and probably gotten himself killed in the process), Dean had been working hard on a plan. With a series of looks and barely noticeable hand signals, he had communicated his idea to Sam and Bobby and soon all three had a scheme that just might work. All they needed was the right moment of distraction. There was no way they could fight four angels themselves, especially with Dean still feeling as weak as he was, but they had a chance if they could arm Castiel with a blade.

Castiel had noticed their hand signals and though he didn't understand all of them, he knew enough to get the gist of what they needed from him. Mouthing off to a brother who was momentarily stronger than he was may not have been not the brightest idea, but it got the Winchesters and Bobby the distraction they needed.

As the three angels giddily watched their leader try to strangle Castiel, Dean had taken the opportunity to slip the angel blade out of his guard's jacket. As soon as he had it, Dean signaled with his eyes to Bobby and Sam. Within seconds, the scene became chaos. Sam, Bobby and Dean simultaneously punched their guards in the gut. Sam and Bobby followed their blows by diving away from the angels, while Dean followed his blow by throwing the angel blade he'd stolen and calling out Castiel's name.

The aim and the throw were true and the blade landed perfectly in Castiel's hand. Before the lead angel had realized what was happening, Cas shoved the knife deep into his chest and kept it there until he flashed out and his wings had burned into the ground.

Then, biting back the weakness that continued to tear at his innards like a rabid dog, Cas advanced on his next victim, his mouth curled back in a snarl of his own now. The other angels had quickly recovered and were going after whoever happened to be near them. One had Sam held up against the wall of the house and Castiel advanced towards them first as they were closest. He reached them in two strides, raising his weapon that now dripped with angel blood.

"Unhand him or die. NOW."

Confused for a moment without his leader, the angel hesitated. Big mistake. In one stroke, Cas had slain him faster than anyone could blink. Another few strides brought him to Dean's side and he slid his blade into the third angel in the time it took to take a breath.

Already on his way to the final angel, who was currently holding Bobby to the ground, Castiel raised his blade. But he was surprised when the creature disappeared with nothing except the sound of his wings to signal his departure; apparently watching two of his brethren get slain in less than 60 seconds had scared him sufficiently to warrant a very speedy escape.

When it was all over, the three men and the angel stayed where they were, each of them trying to recover from the shock of what had just happened. Then, like a battery suddenly running out of charge, the adrenaline that Castiel had been using to keep himself upright and fighting for the past few minutes dropped to zero. First his blade fell from his lax hand and then his body followed it, landing him heavily on his knees in the dirt.

Dean was the first to reach the fallen angel, but with his own body still protesting every move he made, all he could do was place a hand on Cas' shoulder and offer soft words of encouragement. Within seconds, strong arms were lifting both of the invalids back to their feet; Sam guiding Cas and Bobby leading Dean.

_**0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0**_

Dean walked quietly into the spare bedroom to find Cass adjusting his tie in front of the mirror that stood on top of the old dresser. For the first time in a few days, the angel looked like himself again. Even the stubble on his face was gone. Though Dean couldn't be sure if that meant that Cas had shaved or simply willed his body to make it go away. Angels could apparently do whatever they wanted with their vessels.

"Hey, Cas."

Fully immersed in his own thoughts, Castiel had failed to notice when the other man had walked into the room behind him. Though it would never compare to the full-body spasms that Dean was famous for giving when Cas had snuck up on him, the angel nonetheless did give the slightest twitch when the hunter suddenly showed up next to his shoulder in the mirror.

Dean broke into the biggest grin that had been on his face in who knew how long. "Did I….? Did you just…..jump?" he asked, his eyebrows raised in glee.

Castiel finished adjusting his tie and made a show of double-checking that his blade was tucked into his right sleeve, avoiding eye contact with his friend. "Of course not, don't be ridiculous."

"Ha! Oh, yes you did. Well, now you know what it feels like."

The angel turned to the hunter, but rather than berate him for his behavior, he smiled slightly. "Yes, I suppose I do. I will count that as yet another lesson in what it's like to be human."

"C'mon man," Dean said, putting a hand on Castiel's shoulder. "I know you don't need to eat anymore, but how about sitting down to dinner with us one last time before flitting off to parts unknown?"

"I would like that."

Checking to make sure that the protective sigil was intact on the fridge had become everyone's habit in the two days since the angels had attacked, and Castiel found himself doing it again even as he followed Dean into the kitchen. He and Dean had both slept for nearly a full day after the angels had arrived and then enjoyed a day of relaxation after that. Cas had never spent so much uninterrupted time with the Winchesters and Bobby before, and he'd grown to enjoy their camaraderie quite a bit.

Soon though, dinner had finished and Castiel knew that it was time to leave. Getting up from the table, he bade them farewell and disappeared just as quickly as he had arrived.

The angel didn't go as far as the other men might have assumed though, with a flapping of wings he popped up outside of the house. He stood outside of Bobby's window for a few minutes, watching as the three men inside continued to laugh and joke with each other. More hard times were coming for all of them; no one knew that more than he. But for the moment he was pleased to see them all happy, even if only for a little while. He had nearly died in that house, and yet he knew that he would look back on the past few days as some of the happiest he had had in a very long time.

Knowing the journey he was going to take shortly, Castiel wondered if Dean and the others would understand what he was about to do; what he had already done. He wanted nothing more than to return to this home someday, when it was all over - when his plan had worked and Raphael had been stopped - and be with them once again. In this place he had found something akin to family, which he also hadn't had for a long time. But as much as he hoped he would find it again, he doubted it would happen anytime soon.

Castiel was sure that he could stop his big brother from bringing on the Apocalypse and killing many humans of the world. He just wasn't certain if he'd survive to enjoy the fruits of his labor. He also wasn't sure if the men in that room would ever be able to forgive him for what he was about to do.

With that final thought, Castiel unfurled his wings and took off.

The End


End file.
